


A Very Conflicted Approach

by LocalAquatic



Series: South Park Pairings Collection 1 [3]
Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, This Is A Weird Relationship, Wendy Shall Be Redeemed, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalAquatic/pseuds/LocalAquatic
Summary: Wendy feels like such a terrible person after the whole ordeal with Butters a week ago. So, she decides to resume her tutoring sessions with Eric Cartman in order to take her mind off things. But is that really effective when she's starting to face another problem: why does she seem so drawn to Cartman all of a sudden?





	A Very Conflicted Approach

_What have I done?_

Cigarette dangling carelessly between her fingers, Wendy brought it to her lips and let it rest among the numerous cracks of her chapped flesh. She looked a complete mess, and not just from the smoking; her eyes twitching relentlessly, with one or the other always likely to be covered up by the clusters of black hair that proved themselves to be unavoidable.

Tears were long gone at this point, but the pain remained visible to her. What she had done but only last week was simply unforgivable! She had quite literally made a complete ass of herself.

That stupid “campaign”…

She shouldn’t have gotten so temperamental upon realizing that “Marjorine” was really just Butters in girls’ clothes. And she especially shouldn’t have gone out of her way to get revenge on him. Wendy brought two fingers to her cigarette as she huffed out some of the smoke. A habit that was brought about from the whole ordeal. But it felt so… _natural_ to her, if anything. It was like she’d needed one of those all her life. But it was also a vice. Something she was actively against.

Probably didn’t help that _he_ also smoked in the first place.

Speaking of _him_ , she needed to get her ass over to his house quickly. Why she agreed to help Eric Cartman out with his Math work was beyond her…you know, aside from the fact that his mother paid her quite handsomely for essentially sitting with him while he would eat Double Stuff Oreos and KFC takeout, grease and crumbs scattered all across the table strewn with textbooks. While it pissed her off to come home having to thoroughly clean all her expensive books, she found that it was just best if she played along, and so, eating with him as she went over everything for the twenty-third time.

Wendy swiftly pulled the cigarette out from her mouth and stubbed it on the ash tray she borrowed from Tweek, reaching into her closet soon after to pull on her favorite purple jacket. Otherwise known as the deep purple one that Cartman hates. Why he hated it wasn’t clear to her, because he never explained, but there was no need to doll herself up just because of that, was there?

Deciding not to look like a complete idiot in public, Wendy picked up her long-neglected hairbrush from its isolation on her desk and rapidly sent it through her hair, before using a scrunchie and putting it together in a messy yet still decent bun.

Her messenger bag was already prepared for her by the front door, where it had been left from last week, the last instance she remembers going over to Cartman’s house for the Math stuff.

Well, time to do it again, then…

* * *

The journey to Cartman’s is perhaps the only decent part of the whole ordeal. No car, no hassle, and best of all, no Cartman. But then again…she has seen Cartman be a genuine human being and not just some fucked up disaster. Unfortunately, that experience has come from the whole “campaign” in the first place.

He was oh so eager to help her out with her plan to get back at Butters, and the conversations they had during that week…oh, it was as if Cartman saw her the same way he saw those ridiculous stuffed toys he kept on the end of his bed, no matter how tattered they were from years of being played with. If anything, seeing them made Wendy realize that Cartman had a sensitive side…

Halting her thought process from reliving those moments, Wendy knocked on the door and made sure to ring the doorbell as well – ironically, something the two had done over the last week so they knew she was coming by to discuss revenge. A code, as it were.

“I’VE GOT IT MOM!” Cartman’s voice bellowed from the other side, the volume not faltering through the door. It sounded almost sarcastic, from what Wendy could tell. Then, the door opened, revealing the hefty teen’s demeanour softening upon seeing her, “Uh, hey, Wendy, whaddaya got this-”

Eric’s eyes followed the brown strap to the main body of the messenger bag, and Wendy could tell that his similar colored eyes were screaming disappointment.

“Oh.”

“Hello, _Eric,_ ” Wendy greeted, her face as neutral as possible, “Let’s just cut the crap and get this stuff to the table.”

“Who is it, Poopykins?” Liane Cartman’s voice interjected as the women made her way downstairs with a bathrobe on – Wendy knew from the first visit what Liane was probably up to up there, “Oh, hello Wendy, dear. Here to help Eric with his homework?”

“Yes, Ms. Cartman.” Wendy replied politely, “I know I’ve just sorta come by without notice, but I figured that I’m free today, so unless Eric is busy-“

Cartman made a grab for the noirette’s arm as he pulled her inside, causing her to stumble into his torso, “N-no, er, that’s okay, Wendy, I mean…”

“It’s alright, Eric, I’ll be upstairs,” Liane said coolly as she made her way back upstairs. Wendy could feel Cartman shudder in disgust as she stayed motionless against his chest.

“Fucking disgusting.” Cartman grunted as he saw his mother ascend the stairs and out of view. His head then whipped back around to focus on Wendy, and was quick to pull her up, “But not as disgusting as that coat…”

“Shut up, I like it, OK?” Wendy remarked, and found herself smiling upon saying it, “Now, we should get down to work.”

All the textbooks and paper are placed all about the table in the span of fifteen minutes. Wendy was already sitting down with a textbook in one hand and a pen in the other, her coat discarded and placed on the back of her chair, revealing her black sweatshirt that was as comfortable as it was warm.

“We left off at the binomial expansion, if I recall correctly,” Wendy proclaimed, “Now, I believe we’ve already covered Pascal’s Triangle, but-”

A loud, slobbery sound caught the noirette’s attention, her eyes looking up from the book and making their way as if automatically to Cartman, who was holding a familiar red and white striped bucket in his left hand and a chicken wing in his right, the grease sloppily making its way onto the surrounding sheets of paper as well as making a river of itself on the teen’s t-shirt. Cartman’s eyes seemed more focused on the sheets of paper however, as if eating was mere common practice to him (and Wendy knew that that assumption was obviously true).

The sound stopped as Cartman’s eyes met with hers, ceasing himself half-bite.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Must you always eat so loudly?” She asked him in turn.

The fat teen eyed her curiously for a while before going back to chew on the chicken in his mouth. Wendy groaned, but, to her surprise, the bucket he was holding was placed on an open corner of the table. Then, Cartman got up and walked over to the kitchen, and Wendy could then hear the sink running for a few seconds before Cartman returned to the table, this time grabbing himself some lined paper and placing a book in front of him.

* * *

It had been half an hour since the two cracked on with their studying, and surprisingly, Cartman was a fast learner. It would have seemed as if he naturally knew what he was doing as soon as Wendy finished explaining it to him. It made her wonder: when did he learn this quickly? Not even in the sessions before the whole ordeal with Butters had he held on to the information he was receiving.

Deciding that they could afford to diverge at this point, Wendy spoke up about something else, “Do you feel bad about what happened?”

“About what?” was the expected response.

“About the whole thing with Butters, and Marjorine…”

Cartman put down his pencil, a light thud shortly following, “No way in Hell.”

Wendy’s face scrunched up, her bun falling loose, “What?” she asked, anger seething through but not dominating, “How could you not? We _destroyed_ him?!”

There was the anger.

Fuck it.

“Look, I just don’t see what we – well, _you –_ are getting all bitchy about all of a sudden!” Cartman pointed at her accusingly, “That tranny got what he deserved. He was all up in the girls’ business, right? Now he’s back to being his usual pansy-ass self sharing butt-plugs with Kenny. How fucking sick is that?!”

“What’s ‘sick’ about that is how you view the whole thing!” Wendy countered, “Butters is finally happy in a relationship that he and Kenny both wanted, and we should feel bad for what we did to both of them!”

What made Wendy feel even worse about that was that she remembered Kenny almost confronting her and Bebe before the “campaign” and egging him on – she had the intention of making him suffer by watching the one he loved dearly be embarrassed in front of the whole school – hell, they weren’t even discreet; the _whole fucking town_ was there!

“Why don’t you just drop the subject, bitch!?” Cartman suddenly bellowed, “I don’t feel bad. AT ALL! BOO-HOO FOR YOU AND YOUR WEAK FEELINGS!!!”

“WEAK???” Wendy began screeching back as she rose from her seat, “AT LEAST I’M NOT IN DENIAL OF EVERYTHING!!!”

“Eric, sweetie!” Liane’s sing-song voice hollered from upstairs, “Could you keep the argument with your girlfriend down, please? Thank you!”

_Girlfriend???_

_GIRLFRIEND???_

Wendy’s cheeks were flushed of any color, and Eric’s face practically shrunk into the layers of fat.

“Fucking dammit, Mom…” Cartman muttered.

“What did she mean by ‘girlfriend’, Eric?” Wendy hissed at him, keeping her voice down in order to not attract any more unwanted attention from that woman.

Cartman did not answer her, but just stared at her blankly. Wendy could have sworn that his cheeks were burning with a prominent shade of red taking over.

“I can’t believe this.” Wendy immediately made her way to the door, opening it harshly and slammed it shut as soon as she was out of that hellhole. No way could she stand in the same room as him after hearing that.

Just when she thought he was a genuine human being as well…the moment just had to be ruined. Well, she should’ve expected that, when Wendy thought about it; it was just like Cartman to deceive everybody into thinking he was some goddamn angel so that he could then use them for his own personal gain.

Wendy leaned against the door, her body weakened as sadness overcame her. Tears began flooding her sight as she gradually lowered against the door, her knees bent and ready for her head to rest upon them as she let her feelings get the better of her. She was just so conflicted…she thought she was beginning to – dare she say it – _like_ Eric Cartman. Hell, she might have just fucking _loved_ him, even. But, for him to undoubtedly go around telling everyone that they were a thing…that was too much for her.

And fuck, was she cold…she should’ve grabbed her coat on the way out. But no way was she going back in there with that bastard inside. Not in a million years was that gonna happen.

“Wendy?”

Looking up, Wendy saw a familiar, warm face approaching her. It was Butters. He was all wrapped up in what looked like a new orange coat and a purple scarf, which no doubt was a leftover from his days as Marjorine. Wendy’s face brightened only just a little bit as she smiled at him sadly.

“Butters.” Deciding that she would not be as rude as Eric, the noirette got up and gave the blond a warm hug, resting on his shoulder at that point, too sad to let go.

“Is something wrong?” he asked softly.

“It’s just Eric…I just don’t understand him sometimes, and- oh, God…about the Marjorine thing…Butters, words aren’t enough to express how sorry I am…”

“There, there, Wendy…” Butters soothed her by rubbing her back gently. It made her almost envious of Kenny for having such a caring boyfriend.

_No. I can’t think like that._

Butters continued, “Look, Wendy. That happened a week ago. Quite a bit of time has passed since, so. I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Butters then sat down on the front porch of Eric’s house and invited Wendy to sit next to him, “Now, about Eric…you wanna talk about it?”

The noirette took Butters up on his offer and sat down as an arm wrapped itself around her in comfort, “Butters. Has Eric been telling people about us being a…a…a thing?”

“He sure has.” Butters voice did not carry the enthusiasm one might have associated with such an answer, “He’s been doin’ it since you and Stan broke up.”

“Oh…” Wendy felt queasy at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, but decided not to press on, as she was fully accepting of his new relationship with Kyle, “Did Eric go into detail? You know…say anything about it?”

“You know how Eric is. He’s got this unique way of showin’ his feelings to others.”

Wendy let a genuine laugh slip from her lips.

“I know you think that now, but I think you’ll have to talk of ‘im properly one of these days. I think he actually cares about you.”

“Yeah, right…”

“I mean it, Wendy.” the noirette turned to meet the blond’s eyes, “Just talk to Cartman. Get him to confess his feelings to you.”

“I suppose so…” Wendy groaned slightly as she and Butters got up and brushed themselves off.

Guess there was no denying it: she had to talk to Cartman. Butters was right; nothing would actually come about if she denied herself of any form of contact with him. That wouldn’t solve anything. Hesitating, she placed her hand over the doorknob, getting ready to walk back in with a newfound confidence.

“Hey…Wendy?”

Wendy turned to see Butters on the sidewalk, getting ready to go to where she assumed would most likely be Kenny’s house.

“If it’ll make you feel better about the whole Marjorine thing, then just remember this: if that never happened, Kenny and I might’ve never gotten together.”

Wendy smiled. At least something good came out of that. Even if it was in some weird way she didn’t quite comprehend herself.

“That does help, Butters. Thank you. If I can do anything in return, please let me know.”

Butters rubbed his knuckles together, “Well, uh, could you tell everyone at school that I’m not transsexual nor transgender, please? People have been getting the wrong idea about the whole reason why I dressed as Marjorine.”

“Of course, Butters. I’ll get right onto that on Monday.”

“Thanks, Wendy. See ya!”

Wendy smiled back at him before turning back around to face the door and opened it. To her surprise, Cartman was sitting on the couch, with the noirette’s purple coat firm in his grip. Her messenger bag was also by his feet, and with a quick glance at the dining room table she noticed that he must have put everything back in the bag. His face looks a little damp, as if he had been crying, and it was obvious that her coat was in a similar state. She would most certainly get to washing that later, but right now that was not important to her.

Eric turned around, getting up from the couch and pushing the coat forward, “You, uh. You forgot this.”

Wendy took ahold of the coat and put it on the coat rack, “Eric, I think we need to talk.”

“Sure…” Cartman’s lips lowered into a small, nervous frown. His arms were at his back, his fingers no doubt intertwined as he waited in anticipation. He looked nervous, as if he was going to burst at any moment. It was almost calculating, as if he was nervous about what might happen.

“Eric, I-”

Wendy’s sentence was left dangling as Cartman’s face eclipsed hers completely, their lips coming together as he kissed her softly. Slightly startled, Wendy’s body tensed as she just stood there. But, dammit, did her emotions get the better of her; her eyes shut tightly as she allowed herself to enjoy the kiss.

Cartman was the first to pull himself away, and he did so slowly. He sighed, “Wendy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

But then Wendy decided that she would talk to him later, and that the kiss would suffice for now. She wrapped herself around as much as the brunet’s body would allow her to and sunk into his chest.

“Let’s talk later, hm?”

Cartman sighed, “Sure.”

Wendy released herself from the hug and looked into Eric’s eyes, “Right, well…shall we get back to work?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was quite challenging to write. In fact, this is the second version of this fic. The original draft only had a paragraph before I decided I didn't like it.
> 
> I think that writing about Candy is actually hard; they're both head-strong characters who canonically get on each others' nerves. I see them having huge arguments as a couple, but in spite of that they really in love each other; it's just that they express their affections through hate. I've tried to use that in this fic, but the scenes which mention the campaign hint at a more positive spin on their relationship...let's say there's some form of establishment when it comes to a bond the two share.
> 
> Also, Butters talking about how he's not actually transgender/sexual is actually based on how one user wanted me to add 'transphobia' as a tag in the previous part of this collection. Thing is...I didn't write him out to be transgender. Marjorine was meant to be interpreted as a double life, and one he let dominate by CHOICE. He still identifies as a male, but he just likes cross-dressing. He had chose to be Marjorine not out of identity, but out of enjoyment.  
> (Sure, Cartman says Butters is a 'tranny', but who are you gonna believe? Me (the one who's writing all of this) or Cartman?)


End file.
